


Dear John...

by Dandelion_queen



Series: John & Constance [1]
Category: British Actor RPF, John Plumptre - Fandom, Miss Austen Regrets (2008), Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Affairs, Alternate Universe - Edwardian, Alternate Universe - Regency, Cambridge, Edwardian Period, F/M, Jane Austen - Freeform, Long One Shot, Loss of Virginity, Making Love, Miss Austen regrets - Freeform, One Shot, Orphanage, Shameless Smut, curly blonde Tom, jane austen-ish AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-26
Updated: 2015-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-01 10:26:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4016236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dandelion_queen/pseuds/Dandelion_queen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The young, dashing and oh-so-very-naive Mr Plumptre comes to the rescue of Lady Constance Campion, she is in dire need of wealthy patrons for her foundling home and Mr John steers her right. With the crisis averted they meet up sometime later and Lady Constance thanks him properly. Just a bit of fluffy smut that I've been itching to write.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dear John...

Constance straightened her back, her head held high as she parted her way through the ton while they chattered in their small groups. Tonight she would be at her most charming and witty if it meant she could find herself a suitable patron. Her uncle Blake was by a small group of men deep in conversation and so she sidled up to him and cut in with an exaggerated "Uncle! So good to see you."  
She knew he wouldn't be best pleased by her showing up unannounced. He smiled almost like a mangy dog over a bone and eyed her suspiciously.  
"What brings you here my dear?" he peered at her over his glass of brandy.  
"My two feet brought me here, had to lift my skirts so's not to dirty my hem. So while you're here I may as well get to my point, the donations you so generously gave..." Constance began and watched as her Uncle looked elsewhere then called out "Henderson you old soak!"  
Constance found herself stood alone, the tears pricked her eyes and threatened to spill at any second.

John watched this little scene play out with a sharp eye. He wasn't so green to know what was going on. It was no secret that Sir Blake Campion had been frittering away at his brother's fortune. Constance had been his ward till she'd left in circumstances that didn't make much sense. She should be under Sir Blake's care yet here she was discreetly begging him for coin at a gathering like this. He was aghast at that old scoundrels dismissal of his niece. John rose to his feet and handed her his handkerchief which she took and dabbed at her eyes.  
"Thank you." She sniffed.  
"No need to thank me Miss Campion, I know I may speak out of term here but your Uncle is a ghastly fellow and not deserving of your tears." John spoke low so no one would overhear his less than complimentary views on the toadish Sir Blake.  
"Would you care for a brief constitution around the gardens? I hear Lady Frodelle has had them lit up, her own pleasure garden if you will. I find the company here rather overbearing." John held out his hand and was gratified when she took it.

They walked a short while in silence as though they both couldn't wait to be free from the tinkling laughter and warmth of the party.  
"Miss Campion you must think me bold." John blurted out.  
"If you're bold then I am foolish for I took your hand did I not?" Constance smoothed her gown and looked up at the earnest Mr Plumptre. He was all sunkissed curls and blue summer sky eyes, a tall handsome young fellow indeed.  
"I know you run the foundling home in Stuart Hill and I believe I may be of some assistance. I can offer you at least enough to make sure the children are fed till the end of next month." John smiled brightly and yet Miss Constance didn't return his smile, rather she burst into tears that had him once more handing her the handkerchief and holding her dainty little hand.

"Oh sir..you are a kind man but I fear I am so far in debt it would only be used to keep the wolves from the door. I owe for wood, coal and food. The medicine I urgently needed for baby James has all but cleared my funds. Uncle Blake hasn't offered much in the way of support as of late and I cannot bear to see the children suffer so.." Constance knew she must be a pitiful sight to the kind Mr Plumptre.  
"Hush now..hush so. I shall endeavour to help you with this unfortunate predicament. There are many good Christian men and women who would jump at the chance to help out where children are concerned." John gently placed his hand under her chin and brought her eyes up to meet his.  
"I would have you tell me practically what you require for the children. Gather your composure and then we shall go in there and I won't rest until I'm certain your home will be safe." John assured her. He was a tenacious fellow and would go above and beyond if need be.  
"You're a good man Mr Plumptre. I thank you for your care this evening, I am ruining your fun and..." Constance began.  
"Nonsense. I never cared much for these gatherings. Shall we?" John escorted her around the gardens while she spoke of what was needed for the children.

She was clearly passionate about the welfare of these unfortunate children. At the age of twenty-five she was caring for fifteen unwanted little souls, tending to their needs with one of her old maids and her father's butler who now doubled as a teacher and guard over the bullies who knocked at her door demanding payment. It was a burden no young woman should be worrying over. He would like to change so much in the way these things were run for the better...one day he vowed he would be a position to make said changes. They paused at the doors while John allowed her a moment to once more hold her head up and step back into the throng.

"Of course! Of course..I would be delighted to offer a payment each month for the upkeep of their cares. You must call on my darling wife Leona, she would be honoured to meet such a fine upstanding young lady as yourself and may I say you're a credit to your late Father, a good man. A fine man." the plump little gentleman had shook John's hand and pressed a kiss to Constance's silken gloved hand.  
"I say there Donoghue! Have you met Lady Constance Campion? Yes..the very one. You studied with her Father at Cambridge? Lady Constance this is Sir Melville Donoghue, we were just discussing her wonderful work with the orphaned children..."  
John stepped back and let Constance talk with the good hearted gentlemen and watched he as her face lit up into a genuine smile. He had a feeling the foundling home had been saved from being closed, relief washed over him.

"Ah, I see she is in better spirits." the gruff unmistakable voice of Sir Blake Campion brought John back to his senses.  
"No thanks to you. What sort of a man allows his niece to become impoverished and struggle while he sits on his generous backside at the card table." John snapped.  
"Watch your tongue laddie, my brother left it all to me to use as I saw fit." Sir Blakes jowls wobbled as he spoke, sweat beaded at his temples.  
"Your brother would've imagined you would take care of his beloved daughter, had he known you'd turn into a flatulent gout-footed drunk I doubt he would've been so trusting to leave such a sweet lady within your cares." John seethed, this man disgusted him to his core.  
"Sweet lady? Aye. Let me tell you, she wasn't so sweet with her pretty thighs spread and the stable lad between them. Oh she'd give in to a lowly lad but keep her bedroom door locked..." Sir Blake realised he had said too much and gulped his brandy down.  
"You're a despicable creature." John rounded on him and grabbed at his jacket lapels to the gasps of onlookers. "That you would try and sully your nieces name."  
"Ask her then Plumptre..go on. If your hankering to be her first then you've missed out. She lives near Stuart Hill, surrounded by the rough fellows. How many do you reckon have given her a good tup? Open your eyes lad. She's no innocent.." Sir Blake's voice was a hoarse whisper as John held him. John wanted nothing more than to strike him but his words had John looking over to where Constance stood with her Father's old friends, one with his arm protectively around her. He released Sir Blake and hastily left without looking back. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John didn't see her before he left for St Johns but heard that the foundling home she owned was indeed running smoothly thanks to a couple of generous benefactors. He doubted he'd cross paths with Lady Constance again and though he knew he'd done as any man of good standing would've done he found he couldn't draw a line under it. He hoped to see her again. Foolish romantic notions in his head distracted him from his studies.  
"Good lord Plumptre, away with the fairies I see?" was a phrase he grew tired of hearing.  
Although he was loathe to admit it her Uncle's words had stirred up some dark lustful feelings within himself. His daydreams were all of a carnal nature as of late..he pictured himself between her thighs rutting hard and cursed his sinful nature for daring to allow himself such thoughts.

He received a letter five weeks later from Lady Constance, she wrote of her relief that she was saved from ruin. She also wrote to regrettably inform him that her uncle had passed away and so she had relocated the Foundling home within the grounds of Campion Hall. There was little left of her fortune but at least she was in her rightful home and the children no longer went hungry.  
'I would be delighted with your company if you so choose to visit Campion Hall, without your help I doubt any of this would've been possible and you're the kindest young man I have met to date.'  
"To date eh? How many have you met?" John muttered to himself and at once felt horrified that he was believing the slurs her Uncle had croaked out.  
He folded the letter and placed it within his pocket, John didn't sleep too well as Constance filled his thoughts. He wrote his reply first thing in the morning.

 

"Look lively everyone, Mr Plumptre is staying for dinner." Constance managed with a staff of three and the elder children's occasional help. They'd cleaned the place from top to bottom over a two day period.  
When the bell rang Constance felt a swell of happiness in her chest that he'd accepted her invitation. She put on her best gown, no matter that it was seven years out of fashion, it still highlighted her best assets.  
"Mr Plumptre." she curtsied to him as he was ushered in.  
"Lady Campion, how wonderful to see you." John replied.  
'Dear god she is stunning.' he thought and took in her shapely form. He hoped dinner wouldn't be too much of a torment to him.

"The girls share a room as do the lads, they're used to being in each other's company of an evening and I find it helps them settle. They are under the tutorage of Marston who was once my Father's butler, he keeps them on their toes. Doris left our care, she is learning about dressmaking and has never been happier. I shall miss her but she visits and writes me." John Heard the tremor in Constance's voice.  
"It's more than care though isn't it? You love them." he cut into his chicken portion.  
"How could I not? One look at their lost little faces..I am with them everyday. I tend to them when they're sick, I rejoice in their triumphs however small they may seem to others. The world is cruel to that which is vulnerable, this I know.." Constance placed her cutlery down and pushed her plate away.  
That piqued his curiosity, was she alluding to her own orphaned past and the care of her Uncle. 

"You have of course known loss much like the children, I feel it would give you a level of empathy with them that most couldn't understand unless they have lived it themselves." John offered and hoped he hadn't opened up old wounds.  
"Indeed. I shudder to think on how different their lives would be." Constance poured them both a generous glass of wine with a tight lipped expression.  
"As you said it would be upsetting to think on the other possible outcomes. Thank heavens for you and your dutiful care." John smiled at Constance from across the table.  
"I thank you for your help that night, Mr Plumptre you saved me. I was close to losing everything and yet your kindness renewed my faith in humanity. You helped me to speak to the benefactors of whom I am also eternally grateful. I could never thank you enough Mr Plumptre." She smiled seemingly flirtatiously at him or was he imagining it?  
When dessert was brought in he vowed to eat a good portion to soak up the wine and save him from such foolish thoughts.

The conversation thankfully turned lighter, John told her of his studies and the night he'd stolen a boat and rowed down the river wearing only his nightgown after a drunken dare.  
Her laughter was music for his soul, he embellished a few of his other tales purely to see her laugh, she was enchanting.  
"Mr Plumptre you are a rascal it seems. I thought you an earnest fellow and yet you are easily corrupted when drink is involved." Constance smirked at him.  
"Aren't we all?" he chuckled.  
"Definitely. I pity anyone who hasn't at least thrown caution to the wind and fully acted upon their carefree desires." She kept her eyes on his and he felt the soft trail of her stocking clad foot at his ankle. Constance licked her lips, her cheeks high with colour now.  
John swallowed as her foot went further still and rested between his thighs. He couldn't believe this was happening to him.  
Her smile was pure wicked as her foot caressed him over his trouser front, he felt uncomfortable as that male part of him leapt up as though starved of attention.  
Constance rested her elbows on the table and leant forward, his eyes dropped to the expanse of cleavage that was on display to him.  
"Mr Plumptre would you allow me to thank you in every way possible tonight?" her voice was a low feminine purr.  
John nodded stunned, all thoughts of what was proper had been snuffed out with the gentle touch of her stocking clad foot against his rapidly hardening cock.

John found himself pushed back onto a sumptuous four poster bed. Constance crawled over him in an almost feline manner. "Have you done this before?" she asked but John had a feeling she knew the answer. He shook his head mutely inwardly cursing himself for his lack of a voice when he so needed it.  
"Am I to be the one who trains you up in bedsport then?" she was a hairs breadth from his lips.  
"So..s-so it would seem." John stammered and then she finally caught his untrained lips up with her own, he groaned in her mouth as her tongue met his, she kissed him hungrily and he soon caught on and returned her kisses.  
"You are a quick learner aren't you John?" she whispered into his ear after he returned her kiss with a passionate fervour that left her panting.  
"I like to think so." his voice was huskier, lacking that fear of a few moments ago.  
"What I'm about to do requires your input." Constance freed his erection from his trousers and chuckled softly at his startled yelp.  
"Magnificent." She cooed as she looked at his thick painfully hard cock.  
"How do you like it?" Constance took his cock in her hand.  
"I beg your pardon?" John feigned confusion but Constance knew what he was about.  
"How do you stroke yourself? Do you like it hard and fast? Slow and steady? A mixture? Cockend rubbing or full length strokes with a fair cup of your bollocks?" Constance kept her hand around him and felt his cock twitch it's release over her fingers. She hadn't even moved her hand. John felt the shame wash over him and covered his face with his hands.  
"Come now, nothing to be worried about. You'll last better when you finally take me." Constance kissed his forehead sweetly and took his handkerchief out of his pocket to wipe her hand.  
"I should like to have you watch me John while I undress for you."  
She stood up and placed a foot on the end of the bed and John lay there thinking she was the loveliest thing on gods green earth as she ran her hands suggestively up to her bosom. Her saucy wink had him loosening his shirt and cravat, his cock seemed to be recovering quickly too thanks to her wanton wiles.

Constance thought he looked absolutely delicious laid out on her bed, his casual buttoned up clothing and his cock out of his breeches. He was struggling so hard to let himself fully get in the moment. She cupped her breasts and pulled at her ties, it loosened that part of her dress so she could slowly slip out of the layers of fabric. A few tugs and pulls and the dress pooled around her feet leaving her naked but for her knee tied stockings. She had his full attention now, spots of pink flushed his cheeks and his gaze had taken that hooded lustful look.  
"Take your clothes off for me." She ordered him and watched him shuck his jacket off, the shirt and waistcoat were tossed aside carelessly and then he removed his shoes, socks and breeches. He was tall yet his shoulders were wide, come the late flush of his twenties he would fill out solidly with muscle not to say he wasn't already a fine figure of a man.  
"Lie back on the bed." She pressed her finger to the middle of his chest and John dutifully did as he was told.

Constance swung her leg over him and heard his sharp intake of breath. He was so darling...  
"How old are you John?" she asked him while taking each of his large scholarly hands in hers and pressing them into the pillows.  
"I'm twenty." he replied.  
"Plenty old enough for a taste of heaven wouldn't you think?" Constance teased.  
"I am not sure heaven has much to do with earthly delights." John allowed his eyes to travel over her breasts which were dangerously close to his lips.  
"Oh Johnny don't be so staid. I think your God gave us these earthly pleasures, is it wrong to savour them? I shall say not. What if there is no heaven save for these few snatched moments of ecstasy? What if you are only judged by the good you do while here? Plenty of people claim to be a good Christian and do terrible things and yet those who claim no god are of a kinder nature than these who slap their bibles and their wives. Do I shock you?" She cupped his face.  
"A little." John let his tongue lick out at the tip of her thumb as she ran it over his lips.  
"But you do not dispute it?" She grinned at him.  
"A woman who looks after children such as you in their time of need will always have my respect more so than any man of the cloth." John found himself agreeing with her bold statement.  
"John?" she asked.  
"Hm?" His eyes were dark pools of desire.  
"Let us speak no more for a while, I have better ideas of what our tongues can do." to make her point she licked down his neck and over to one of his nipples. She kissed at it then blew softly on the hardened nub as John bucked his hips.

He felt the soft wet heat of her when he drove his hips upwards. It was maddening, her quim was right there for him and she yet she teased him, biting his earlobe, his neck, sucking at him, kissing his lips till he gasped for air. Her quim touched him there every so often as she moved above him. He writhed in another vain attempt to sheath himself within her. Constance was driving him wild, he moved swiftly when she released his hands, he had them on her hips and then he impaled her in one deep thrust that had her throwing her head back with a cry.  
She felt like everything in that moment, had he known just how much pleasure there could be from the simple act of bringing a wet inviting quim down on his hard cock he'd have tried it on with every girl from here to St Johns. He was green no longer..he knew the feel of a woman.  
When however Constance began the steady rise and fall of her hips he had to concede he truly knew what pleasure was.

Constance rode him, his large hands grabbed firmly at her backside as she made light work of his splendid prick, the deep push of him contrasting so well with the maddening drag of her sensitive quim as she raised herself off him. He brought her down on him effortlessly each time in a primal fashion, his untried cock buried to the hilt was all they both cared about now.  
"Oh, you are incredible." Constance felt the dizzying waves of satisfaction claim her as John brought her down for the last time atop him. His large fingers dug into her hips and he found himself lost to his own release after her own.  
"Constance my love.." he looked up at her with such adoration that she half felt bad for what she'd taken from him.

 

The journey back to St Johns was a blur. John remembered nothing except for the look on her beautiful face as she came apart, her dark eyes as she looked up at him while she tasted the length of him. Every whispered endearment, every sigh, growl or cry he carried with him. She would always be held dear to him as his first. He'd stayed on a full month, he was reluctant to go back to Cambridge. It was Constance who pushed the issue.  
"I shall write you every fortnight Mr Plumptre. You are always welcome here." There was a longing in her eyes as she politely saw him off, the children of the foundling home waved as he passed by in the carriage. He waved back before settling into his seat.  
Fool that he was he'd asked her to marry him!  
"That is not how we will be darling John. I belong here, you will marry a sweet young girl who'll worship the ground you walk on, hang on your every word and give you many fine children...and don't say you don't want that. I'm not that woman though, would that I were...for you are all I'd ever want in a man." and she held her tears back and so had he.  
"I am yours." he'd insisted.  
In years to come he'd admit she was right about everything but right now she was all he truly wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~ Dear John,  
I'm writing to offer you my congratulations. Word has reached me of your engagement to Miss Methuen and I wish you both many years of happiness. I shall always be grateful for all you did for the foundling home and I shall never forget that stolen month we had nor our time at Lord Edwards, brief as it were. I myself am being pursued by the rather amorous attentions of Captain Keating and for once I don't mind. I shall be up close to St. John's by next Sunday. I have been invited up to Lady Sorrington's manor, she has a beautiful garden and as a keen botanist I'm sure you'd find it fascinating. Her home is but a twenty minute journey by carriage from St Johns. I hope to see you there.  
Your affectionate friend Constance. ~

John folded the letter carefully and slipped it in his jacket pocket. He'd last seen the lovely Constance last summer, they'd shared another tryst and gone their separate ways once more.  
He was to be married soon and clearly Constance would be marching up the aisle with Captain Keating.  
"One last hurrah." he told himself knowing full well that wasn't entirely true.


End file.
